No Unholy Exhalation

 

Religious people don’t know how to breathe

Because they’ve chosen not to breathe, not

To let the world in, unlike those who breathe

Both in and out. They breathe out only, hot

Breath only, never any cooler air

Or dryer air.  They’re like an anchorite

Who doesn’t need to be bricked up.  They stare

But do not see the things around them, tight

With insight, not with outsight, choosing one

Temptation, one not tempting, so they

See their special Host, their special blinding sun,

So sacred that they do not need to pray.

  They do not need to pray because they hold

    Their breath, held in irradiated gold.